


Best of Men and Best of Husbands

by whorl



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Stormpilot - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Musicals, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6598666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorl/pseuds/whorl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone loves Poe and Finn, right? And the musical Hamilton? And combining them for maximum implied sadness?<br/>Hamilton OBCR “Best of Wives and Best of Women” recast with Poe and Finn.<br/>Inspired by the lovely piece written by orestesmadness</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best of Men and Best of Husbands

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Best of husbands and best of men](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5653819) by [orestesmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orestesmadness/pseuds/orestesmadness). 



Stars were still glittering, brittle in the early morning sky, as Poe Dameron watched the lunar cluster sink below the horizon. He sighed quietly as he slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Finn. He had been on a thousand daybreak missions, yet this one felt different, somehow. As he fastened the familiar buckles on his uniform, Poe glanced back at the sleeping form of his husband. His breath caught in his chest as a sudden panic swept over him. He grabbed a notepad, shuffling through pages of careless doodles and games of hangman until he reached a fresh page. Biting his lip in concentration, he paused, then dashed off a few lines. 

Finn made a noise low in his throat and turned to face his lover. Voice rough with fatigue, he mumbled, “Poe Dameron, come back to sleep.”

“I have an early mission—gotta head to town.”

Finn squinted as he looked at the window. “It’s still dark outside.”

“I know.” Poe gauged the weak light filtering through the window. He still had a few minutes.

Finn looked quizzically at the notepad in Poe’s lap, uncertainty in his eyes.

“I just had to write something down.”  Poe had never written Finn a letter before. But today felt different. He glanced back down, hurriedly filling the page with his unpolished scrawl.

“Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” Finn’s eyes suddenly grew wide, shocked at the implication of his words. For a moment, there was stillness, then the tension dissipated.

“Shhhh...” Poe murmured, and both were reassured.

Poe penned a last line, signing with his usual flourish. He folded the page and tucked the letter deep within a book that Finn had been doggedly trying to finish for the last month.

“Come back to bed, that would be enough...”  Finn’s eyes were playful, daring Poe to return to the warmth of the covers. 

“Come back to sleep.” They had played this scenario a hundred times before. Poe had tried returning to bed—once, long ago. Finn’s indignation and sputtered protests about “the good of the mission” and “the fate of his team” had sent Poe scrambling back to his duty, leaving celebration for later. Yet, that day, he had half a mind to crawl back into Finn’s safe embrace. Things felt different. But, as he walked back to the bed, his eyes flicked to the far wall, where plaques of commendation glinted dully in the dim light. He sighed.

“This mission’s at dawn.” Poe sat on the edge of their bed.

Finn stretched, pulling the blankets back over his broad shoulders. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.” He started to turn away, already half dreaming again.

“Hey.” Poe rested the back of his hand gently on Finn’s cheek. Finn turned back, his hand joining Poe’s, fingers entwining. “Best of men, and best of husbands.” Their eyes locked, and they held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than usual. Poe grasped Finn’s hand—hanging on for dear life, just for an instant—then stood abruptly and strode from the room before Finn could see the tears welling in his eyes.

Poe couldn’t have known how the mission would end that day. There is a new plaque on the wall, and Finn Dameron reads Poe’s farewell letter by starlight every night.


End file.
